Rolling With It
by IllChemist
Summary: Another story, another farmer. This one concerns David: a sarcastic, burnt out employee of Joja Corp. desperate for a change. At first he sticks to his defense mechanisms to keep to himself, but in Pelican Town everyone knows everyone, and in Stardew Valley the surreal becomes real. His environment tears down his layers, and leads him to finally discover himself and true connection
1. A Decision is Made

Winter 13th  
Year 1  
A Decision is Made

Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter.

This was a slow pace for me. Typically, I could hammer out words and sentences on a computer so fast that I'd finish the keystrokes before the sound reached the next cell… or rather, the next cubicle. That was how I typed when I was first brought on to work for Joja Corp. – the as-advertised 120 wpm freak of computing that could find a bug in the code and squash it before it ever even knew it was found. Three years of the constant hum of machinery, the lack of any exterior windows, and the down-to-the-minute tracking of employee clocking slowed me down a good bit.

Not that I couldn't pick up the pace if I wanted to, of course. I was still a killer of keys, a terror of typists, a wizard of word processing. Simply put, though, I didn't care.

Maybe it was the four bosses I had, or perhaps it was the completely impersonal nature of the job… After all, everyone had to say each other's title before their name. _Division IT Director David_ is what people called me if I was lucky. If not, they'd stretch that IT out all the way and lord almighty, was it a mouthful to say and a chore to hear.

Or maybe it was the complete lack of freedom I possessed.

No matter which of the above it was, I had morphed from a starry-eyed college graduate to a sarcastic, impersonal coworker in three years. The former was a talent I had from day one. The latter Joja cultivated on my behalf.

A sharp _click_ echoed throughout the giant room that housed cubicles packed tighter than sardines. I knew the sound well – it was breaktime! The click of glory that signaled your ability to get up and take a piss… but really, no more than that because it took five minutes to get the bathroom and back again.

I rose with a start and looked across the sea of blue paint and walled-off environments. Without so much as a lingering glance, I could spot the people lining up at the bathroom door. I'd be late back to his desk for sure, and being late back to your desk meant they docked you.

I slumped back down in his chair, the recognizable _squeak_ bouncing off the walls around me and penetrating my skull. It made nails to a chalkboard feel nostalgic it was so awful. My whole body responded to the noise, a wince the likes of which legends are made of. With a long, awful groan, I leaned forward and buried my hands into my face. The sharp stubble cut against the soft skin with a sandpaper bite. More and more lately, I'd felt the need to skip shaving. What was the point? No one cared whether I took care of myself or not… well, no one except my mother and two sisters, but they were so busy enough with their own lives that it'd been weeks since I saw any one of them.

I missed his family. Truly, I did. But whenever I saw them I knew there was something _else_ dragging me down. Something loathing and distant. A disconnect from reality, it almost felt like. I needed something more. Something real. My family sometimes brought out that satisfaction in me, and when they did I really felt great about the world around me…

Almost without thought, my hand drifted to my top drawer and pulled it open. _"The envelope,"_ my brain stated. _"Open it."_

Cautiously, I sat straight up and lowered my other hand. With great care, as if it would shatter into a million pieces, I pinched it with either hand and brought the letter to eye level. Staring at its crisp, white sheen, my mind whisked away into the past, and the memories it brought.

**** Sixteen years prior ****

I _can still smell the fire place crackling in the night, giving the purple wall paper an orange hue and illuminating the sword above the mantlepiece. My grandfather, starting show the wear and tear of being an old man at last, lied in a cozy-looking bed placed in the center of the room. The day of the Winter Festival had passed, and he felt that it was time for a living will to be read._

 _It was mostly a standard affair – to my son this, to my second son that, to my daughter what's more… but then he paused, the fire sparking a single ember in the air as he reached under the covers, and he spoke in raspy, aged voice. "… and for my very special grandson," he said, "I want you to have this sealed envelope."_

 _He produced a plain white, standard-issue envelope with a purple seal and handed it to little David. Being a nine-year-old kid, my first instinct was to open it as soon as possible. It was the celebration of the Winter Spirit, after all… but my grandfather stopped me at the pass. "No no… don't open it yet," he instructed. "Have patience._

 _"There will come a day where you feel crushed by the burden of modern life, and your bright spirit will fade before a growing emptiness." He paused and smacked his lips, wetting them so he could say his last peace. "When that happens, my boy, you'll be ready for this gift." He paused and hummed thoughtfully as I clutched the envelope. "Now, let Grandpa rest."_

 _Grandpa would pass on before the Spring._

**** Present day ****

Shaking and nervous, I pulled three pieces of paper from the envelope. The crinkling of the paper seemed to bore into my skull and drown the white noise of computer machine upon computer machine out of existence. One seemed simple enough: a name, Lewis, and a number below it. The second, however, caught me off-guard: a handwritten letter from the Old Man himself, pouring his wisdom out one last time for me to submerge in.

 _Dear David,_

 _If you're reading this, you must be in dire need of a change._

 _The same thing happened to me, long ago. I'd lost sight of what mattered most in life… real connections with other people and nature. So I dropped everything and moved to the place I truly belong._

 _I've enclosed the deed to that place… my pride and joy: Highwind Farm. It's located in Stardew Valley, on the southern coast. It's the perfect place to start your new life._

 _This was my most precious gift of all, and now it's yours. I know you'll honor the family name, my boy. Good luck._

 _Love, Grandpa_

 _P.S. If Lewis is still alive, say hi to the old guy for me, will ya?_

If I wasn't inside a metal cube of doom, I might've cried. The emotions might've swept over me and I would've bawled like the nine-year-old I was back then whilst clutching the envelope to his chest. The sea of feelings nearly submerged me, dulling the environment around me, so much so that I almost neglected to notice the third piece of paper in my hand: it was, indeed, the deed and title to Highwind Farm, all written out and signed to me by Grandpa.

So, because I _was_ in the metal cube of doom, I went about other steps instead.

First, I sent out an email to _All_ , as was my ability as a member of the IT department, describing the feelings of impersonality and resentment that Joja instilled in me. Second, he attached a .PNG image containing nothing more than a butt… admittedly, not my proudest moment (though, to be fair, it was a _really_ nice butt).

And finally, I scooped up the picture of my mother and two sisters from my desk, this one personal effect employees were technically allowed, and clutched it to my chest with one hand. The envelope and three sheets of paper remained firmly gripped in my other.

Form afar, I could hear the _thunk thunk thunk_ of Matthew's (and I will NOT give that prick the satisfaction of using his full title) footsteps slumbering down the narrow alleyway that was the small gap between one row of cubicles and the next.

"Parker!" he bellowed. "What's the meaning of this?"

I blinked stupidly for a second before turning and facing one my four bosses. "… I'm uh, I'm not Parker," I stated. " _Daniel_ Parker is two cubicles down. I'm _David._ "

Matthew froze in his tracks, a curious looked about his chubby face. "Wait… I thought you were Darryl."

"Actually," came a higher pitched voice from a cubicle adjacent to my own, "I'm Darryl."

"Well then who's Dustin?" Matthew asked, now in a complete disarray. "The portly fellow with the limp?"

Darryl continued. "No. That's _Dominic._ "

"Wait, then who's Darrius?"

It was time, I felt, for an abrupt interruption to the mundane madness unfolding in front of me. "Anyways, uh… I quit." I said, my voice flatter than ironed tissue paper. "I'm done with Joja Corp… hopefully for good."

Matthew, naturally, began to loudly object to that, various obscenities being flung to and fro. Turning away and marching onwards to the elevator, I couldn't bother to care. Being in the IT department had its advantages, after all, and chief among them was monitoring the emails of _all_ Joja employees, whether above or below your paygrade.

"Sorry, Matt," I said casually without turning back, "I just can't do it anymore."

I honestly can't remember whether Matthew continued to bellow at me as I passed cubed cell after cubed cell. Most of what happened between that moment and phoning Lewis early the next day was a blur.

The only thing I can really remember was something I would never be quite certain was real or just a living dream.

 _Was_ that the remains of a human skeleton lying on top of the desk in the last cubicle he passed? And had the computer screen illuminated the small space in big, bold and shiny white letters the following two simple words?

GET. OUT.

That I had to ask was problematic enough.


	2. Fond Farewells and Gregarious Greetings

Winter 28th - Spring 1st  
Year 1  
Fond Farewells and Gregarious Greetings

There was only way to get to Stardew Valley from Zuzu City, and that was everyone's favorite method of travel… the bus.

I exhaled heavily as I stood at the stop, the asphalt jungle around me buzzing with life as people walked to and fro, paying me no mind. At least my family had come to see him out, if nothing else. Even Kristen, who had declared this whole endeavor to be one massive folly, came to see me off. _"If only to gloat if I fail,"_ I thought to himself.

My mother, Yoba bless her, sniffed heavily as she wrapped her arms around me and gave me the strongest, longest hug that any sane person could withhold. "I'm going to miss you," she said softly as the breeze brushed against her face.

The air was cool still, but the winds carried a certain warmth about them – a sign of the coming Spring. To say the timing couldn't be better would be an understatement. Had I made his decision a week or two earlier, I may well have found himself on a farm in the dead of winter without any hope of planting crops coming soon. Instead, he I got myself an overnight ticket and was set to arrive just in time for putting crops in the dirt. Lucky me.

"I'm only a bus ride away, Mom," I said. "And Lewis said the landline will be up by the time I get there."

Kristen scoffed and shook her head. Her black bangs brushed against her eyebrows, the annoyance of them just being enough to make her push them back from her face. "Good Lord," she said. "This whole quarter-life crisis your having is so stupid."

"I think it's awesome!" my younger sister, Clodagh, chimed in. "You're going to be so… _free_."

"Free from what?" Kristen asked.

"The painful judgement of my sister," I shot back.

Kristen rolled her jade eyes. "Oh please, David," she started. "You're a computer programmer moving to a _farm_ in a flyspeck on the map."

My mother hushed Kristen. "David's an adult," she added, though I could hear the unease in my mom's voice. To be fair, I couldn't blame either of them. A) I didn't know the first thing about farming, B) Id never lived a day outside of Zuzu City, or more than fifteen minutes away from family, and C) I _seriously_ didn't know the first thing about farming. "He can make his own decisions," she added on as if it were an afterthought. "I just hope the farm's in good condition…"

Ah, yeah, there was that, too. I scratched the stubble still on face at that one, unsure of what to expect. Lewis, the Pelican Town mayor, seemed to fancifully dodge that question when it came up over the phone. "It'll be ready for you when you get here," he'd said in a comforting, if worn-down voice.

He seemed a nice enough fellow, and was extremely amicable over the phone, but all the same, I couldn't help but get the feeling that he had more to tell.

"Mom," came Clodagh's soft voice. "Why didn't we ever visit the farm growing up?"

The stiffening of her back, her posture noticeably tensing up. I knew these signs all to well. I'd seen her perform it a dozen times over, and it always discomforted him when she did it. Because I knew _exactly_ why they never visited the farm, even if she'd never say it out loud. She always wanted to spare Clodagh from the details of the reality of her father.

Kristen must've noticed too, because her attitude shifted to bittersweet and she walked up and hugged me as if to silently drive the topic away. "Just call me if you need anything, okay, bro?" she whispered in my ear.

"And give you the satisfaction?" I asked in good humor. "Never."

She laughed softly and let go so suddenly I wondered if she'd ever actually embraced him to begin with.

Now came Clodagh's turn. Even though she was only my half-sister, I couldn't deny that he felt closer to her than I did to Kristen. Maybe it'd been because I felt the need to watch over her when she was younger. _"Or maybe it's because Kristen's a twat,"_ I thought bemusedly. I pushed the thought aside and we practically bearhugged each other, me lifting her off the ground slightly as I leaned back. "Okay sis," I said as I let go. "First tomato goes to you."

"Tomatoes are summer crops, dingbat," Kristen said to his side.

"Right… well, you get the first green bean," I said to her. "Not, y'know the stalk… just the bean."

His mom finally huffed, "Would you two _please_ can it for one day?!" she said.

"Sorry Mom, had to get my last few barbs in."

I looked at his watch and saw that his bus was set to leave in five minutes. I slung his backpack over his shoulder, scooped up his only duffle bag, and waved with his one free hand. "Okay family," I said, "Adios!"

As I walked away, I felt like the Sun set a little bit more with each step. It had gone from later afternoon to early evening now, the weather cooling considerably in that timespan. One step everything felt alive and blooming, and then next the Sun got low enough in the sky to give the world a pale orange hue, barely allowing me time to board my bus with light to spare. I looked at the driver, a middle-aged woman who had definitely seen better days. "This the bus to get me to Pelican Town?" I asked.

She looked at me with a crooked grin, her frayed blonde hair matching the tone of teeth… _"Oh sweet Yoba,"_ I thought to myself, _"Please don't let Pelican Town be the home of the rednecks and the yellow teeth."_

I turned to his family and gave them one last overly-enthusiastic thumb's up. Anyone who looked like that _had_ to be from the sticks.

"Does a flounder piss in the Gem Sea?" she asked.

"Um…"

"Just get on board, Son."

Oh, this was going to be _delightful._

* * *

The driver remained blissfully silent for the remainder of the drive. I took the opportunity to realize how exhausted I was and catch some shut-eye. Of course, I realized that one should be more wound up than tired when deciding to hit the reset button on life, but for whatever reason, I felt relaxation pass through him easily, as if there was no reason to have a care in the world.

 _Crank-whirrrr… Hsssssssss_

Much to my surprise, it wasn't the raspy, worn voice of the driver that roused him from my lumber (though that wasn't to say that her unique sequence of swear words didn't hinder that process in the slightest). No, the bus itself more than made up for that.

My eyes fluttered open, allowing the morning sun to beat down in his face. I squinted my eyes and turned away from the window, stretching as long and hard as I ever had in my life as my body's muscles caught up to my mind. "Something the matter?" I managed to squeeze out, my voice tired and slow.

"Bus just shot its last, I think" the raspy voice replied. "I need a friggin' drink."

What time was it? Couldn't be later than 7:00 in the morning given how low the sun was off in the distance. I'd had tough days on the job before, but never felt the need to indulge at sunrise. _"She was up all night driving,"_ came my thoughts, _"It probably feels like the evening to her."_ Either way, her drinking habits were none of my concern. Instead, what I _needed_ to worry about was the fact that the bus broke down.

"Say, how close are we to town?" I asked as my eyes finally adjusted to the light.

All my caught as a response was the driver's figure ducking out of the now-open door as cool air swooped through the bus. "Wow, that close, huh? Well, thanks for the help!"

I then grumbled under my breath and grabbed my bags from the carriage above me. Just my luck – my first day of my new life and now I was stranded in the middle of friggin' nowhere. It didn't take a genius to know that being surrounded by woods and mountainside on the road to know that you had a hike ahead of you no matter which direction you strolled in… though I had to admit, the sight was something of a beaut. The soft morning glow showed the budding plants and the greening trees in all their brilliance, a soft dew dripping from each leaf in a little dance of Spring. I never saw anything like this before in my entire life. Mostly just concrete and stranger's heads passing by in silence. "Wow…"

"Beautiful, isn't it?" a woman's voice broke my concentration.

I jerked his head towards the front of the bus to find the source of the voice. Much to my surprise, it belonged fit redhead who sported a rather cozy-looking yellow fleece, and she offered me a kindhearted smile. "Never seen much nature before," I admitted.

The woman nodded and looked out in the same direction I had been just a moment ago. "You must be the new farmer, David," she said with a slight country drawl. When he didn't offer a response, she continued, "Mayor Lewis sent me here this morning to help your find your way to Highwind Farm," she offered.

I can only imagine how stupid I looked as I stood there blinking. "Lewis… Wait a second, you're from Pelican Town?" I asked. "How'd he know to find me here?"

Her face shifted from kindhearted to bewildered, and if I could read people as well as I hoped, somewhat concerned. "Well, when someone travels around on a bus, you can usually expect to find them at the bus station," she responded.

"Bus station?" I became intimately aware of how stupid I truly did look in that very moment. "The bus broke down… at the bus station?"

She chuckled a bit and rolled her eyes. "Some people are just born lucky," she told me. "Let's get a move on, then. Lewis will be expecting us sooner than later."

Without awaiting a response, she stepped down the stairs quick and sure-footed. I stood there for a moment in a stupor. _This_ was the bus station for Stardew Valley? It didn't make any sense. Where were the other buses? Where were the disgruntled commuters… Hell, where was _anyone_ for that matter?

Still, better to take her word for it than not.

I secured the two bags that contained all my personal belongings, and sleepily lumbered down the bus stairs into the crisp, cool Spring air of Stardew Valley. A light breeze wafted the funky smell of a thousand blossoming trees up my nostrils, and I sniffed a few times in shock as I tried to adjust to the scent. For not the first time in my life, I felt grateful to be allergen free as the pollen fluttered in the air around me with the melody of the season.

The redhead led me on and made sure to keep me occupied with small talk. As we passed the fenced bussing area, she turned right at a sign indicating the directions to Highwind Farm. "Lewis asked me to put that together," she explained.

"What is exactly that you do, um…"

She paused a moment to allow me to pull up alongside her and held out her hand. "Sorry, I'm Robin," she told me. I in turn lowered my bags and shook her hand, immediately noting her rough and calloused skin against my softer, unlabored hands. "The local carpenter."

"Ah," I responded. His city conventions prevented me from putting two and two together when I had noted her physique, hands and handiwork. "David Moran… um, local farmer, I guess."

Robin humored him with chuckle and then pressed on.

The path from there on proved easy enough to follow. It was a one-shot, not branching off in any direction or twisting and turning. I thanked my lucky stars for that – the last thing I needed after moving into the Valley was not being able to navigate anywhere without getting lost. When Robin explained that the best way from me to reach town was to simply go the way opposite their own, I almost danced internally. Getting lost in the city proved easier than this. _"Hey!"_ I thought stupidly, _"Maybe all of farming will be this easy!"_

Then, of course, reality clobbered me upside the head with a bag of jagged rocks… or, more accurately, a bag of jagged rocks, trees, weeds, stray branches, and debris.

"Well," Robin said as we came to the end of the trail, "here we are: Highwind Farm."

My jaw once again dropped in a stupor, only this time it was different. I was not awe-struck in the same vein as when I'd first glimpsed nature on the bus… No, I was downright flabbergasted at the sight of a farm long-since forgotten in the annals of time.

As far as the eye could see were trees, softwood and hardwood, some full-grown and some just saplings. Littered among them were years of untamed nature – rocks in all shapes and forms from pebbles to minor boulders, tallgrass left alone for fifteen years of growth and spread, countless seeds scattered about… it was all there.

Just ahead to his right I finally saw the home itself. To say the building had aged would be a pleasantry – it looked as worn down as Grandpa had in his final days. What's more, it looked _tiny_ – it couldn't be any bigger inside than my basic studio apartment in Zuzu City. The wood showed two distinct phases of aging, with some warped and worn while others looked to have been tacked on recently, a sort of patchwork to keep it all together. Adorning the front was a small porch with enough room for a chair, provided you could find a suitable place to put it without a leg sinking into a very noticeable hole towards the far end of the house.

Robin looked to me and raised her eyebrows a bit, no doubt sensing the overwhelming sensation of wanting to run away that I must've been projecting to the world. "Lewis asked me to fix up some of the more damaged spots of the house… and he's been working hard the past few days to fix up the inside. A few villagers pitched in enough money for a TV."

Carpentry work and a donated TV. _"Great,"_ I thought to himself, _"I'm already racking up debt here."_

"Um," he started to say, hoping to explain that to here, "I-

The farm front door swung open, revealing the figure of an old, lanky man who looked like something straight out of the past. Short and gray-haired, with a fantastic moustache to match, he took off his brown schoolboy cap off and wiped his brow of sweat before gently placing it back on his head. "Ah!" he cried out in a higher-pitched and aged voice, "The new farmer!"

There was no mistaking that voice after his phone conversation with the man. "You must be Lewis," I greeted him.

"And you must be David," he responded. Lewis quickly adjusted the suspenders resting on his green shirt and waved Robin and I over. "I was just fixing the place up."

I sighed and nodded. "Yeah," I said as I reached the foot of the steps. I leaned one leg on the bottom step and put his weight on it. An epic groan emitted from the step with each addition ounce of pressure I let on. "I can't imagine why. It seems ship-shape."

Lewis' eyes narrowed, but he didn't say anything.

Robin, on the other hand, cleared her throat. "Oh, come on," she said. "Sure the land's a bit overgrown, but there's still good soil all around it."

Almost as if they rehearsed, Lewis chimed in, "Besides, it's a good cabin… Rustic."

I raised an eyebrow. "… Rustic?"

To my surprise, Robin clarified the non-question: "More crusty, I'd say."

In all my life, I never saw before or after a more comical reaction out of someone than Lewis just then. The old man must've had years of pent-up rage, because a vein protruded across his forehead and his face turned a certain shade of red that could best be described, in farmer terms, as ripened tomato. "RUDE!" he practically barked. He must've noticed my uneasy reaction to this brief revelation of insanity, because he immediately backed down instead turned his anger into annoyed barbs. "Ah, don't worry about her. She's just trying to goad you into buying one of her home upgrades," he dismissed.

This time, Robin had the comical reaction: first her mouth gaping, followed by an audible huff and her turning her back to the two of us. Her foot started tapping against the ground as she folded her arms and looked at the wild nature surrounding the farm.

Lewis sighed and shook his head. "Well, anyways… David, lots of people in town have been asking about you."

"Well, I hope you told them I'm a Virgo."

Lewis' eyes narrowed a second time, and I began to recognize that as the old man's tell that was getting annoyed. "Didn't tell them much," he continued, willfully ignoring my automated sarcasm response system. "Tomorrow, though, you might want to explore Pelican Town and introduce yourself to everyone. They'd appreciate that. It's not every day someone new moves into the Valley."

I honestly wanted nothing less than to have to do just that, but alas, I had the social wherewithal to recognize how rude it'd probably be not to. "How many people live around here?" I asked.

"Just over thirty," Lewis told me. "A few more folks are scattered about in the surrounding area, but they keep to themselves, so you'll probably never meet them."

I merely exhaled and looked at the cabin. "Sounds good to me."

Lewis either ignored that or didn't hear it, because he pressed on. "Anyways, it's probably best you rest up today." He gave me a _very_ unwelcomed slap on the shoulder. "You've got a busy time ahead of you!" his tone was jovial enough to make me want to puke. "Let's leave him to it, Robin."

Once the redhead _finally_ stopped tapping her foot (how long would she have carried _that_ on for?!), she gave me a reassuring smile. "If you need anything, my place is in the mountains on the other side of town. You should stop by tomorrow and meet the family."

"Maybe when I'm done busting rocks and chopping wood," I told her.

Then it dawned on me – a single, terrifying revelation.

"Um… Lewis," I said, completely unsure of how to word the next sentence. "I don't own any tools."

The two longtime-locals exchanged a glance. Neither had to say it out loud for me to know the exact silent conversation they just had: this new farmer had no idea what he was doing, and everyone knew it.


End file.
